


Somebody Catch My Breath

by Agapostemon



Series: Cardboard Castles [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blood, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9623495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agapostemon/pseuds/Agapostemon
Summary: Two friends. One plane crash. Grown men crying over a Jello cup.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before [If the Sky Comes Falling Down](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9614165/chapters/21720008) and [Fill Me In](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9512381/chapters/21514565), but you can read them in any order.
> 
> Content Warnings: Serious injuries, blood, vomit, amputation, plane crash, cursing
> 
> Disclaimer: I know literally nothing about planes or the military or injuries. Read with a grain of salt.
> 
> Character Ages for Reference:  
> Shiro - 23  
> Matt - 21

Shiro wakes up face-down in the ruined heap of scrap metal that used to be his plane’s control panel. He doesn’t really remember crashing, but he surmises that must be what happened. He has a splitting headache and feels the sticky sensation of half-dried blood on his eyelids, his cheeks… all over his face, really. A small but steady stream of blood trickles into his mouth. He’s pretty sure his nose is broken. But the adrenaline charging through his system does a pretty good job of effacing the pain, so he assumes he’s not hurt too bad.

_Matt!_

The thought hits him like a freight train. He pushes himself up from what remains of his seat, but as he stands he becomes acutely aware of something very _wrong_ with his right arm. There’s a dull ache in his elbow, almost like he hit his funny bone, but aside from that there’s just… heaviness. It’s hard to identify through the fog of adrenaline. He turns his head to assess the damage.

He immediately regrets his decision to look.

_Shit._

He snaps his head away and stoops over to vomit.

_I’m not keeping that arm._

He pushes that thought away in favor of something more urgent, and potentially more solvable.

_Matt!_

He looks around the cabin. The motion makes him dizzy, but he quickly spots his friend. He’s flat on his back, left leg caught under some rubble and a small pool of blood under his head. But he’s breathing. Unconscious, but breathing.

“Matt!” Shiro rasps, clambering over to his friend and half-sliding, half-falling into a sitting position beside him. He takes his hand, “Matt, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

No response.

He squeezes Matt’s hand and wracks his foggy brain for what to do next.

Suddenly, Matt’s personal com clicks on and a familiar voice crackles out, “Matt? Are you there? What happened?” The voice sounds like its suppressing panic.

Shiro lets go of Matt’s hand and scrambles for Matt’s com, relocating it to his own shirt (next to his own mutilated com). “Commander Holt?” he asks.

“Shiro?” the voice responds, “What happened, is Matt okay? Is the crew okay?”

Shiro glances around him, taking a deep breath as he tries to make sense of his surroundings. He reaches down and takes Matt’s hand again before responding to Commander Holt, “Matt’s unconscious but breathing. I can’t—I can’t get back to the rest of the plane. I don’t know what happened. We crashed.” A vague wave of guilt courses through Shiro’s body.

“Okay,” Commander Holt lets out a shaky breath, “Thank you, Shiro. What about you? Are you alright?”

“I’m…” Shiro’s voice breaks, “I’m okay. I’m—my arm is… not. But I’m okay. Can you track our coordinates and send help?”

“How not okay is your arm, Shiro?” the commander asks, voice filled with concern.

“It’s… it’s fine,” Shiro says, “Focus on Matt first. And the rest of the crew if they’re…” He trails off.

“How bad?” Commander Holt insists.

“Sam, it’s not salvageable,” says Shiro with a jarring laugh, adrenaline rushing through his head as he says it, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Commander Holt says, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice steady, “Okay. I have your last known coordinates, so we’re gonna try and figure out where you landed and get some help to you as fast as possible.”

“Thanks,” says Shiro, squeezing Matt’s hand as he says it.

“Please take care of yourself, Shiro,” says Commander Holt. Then there’s a click and his voice is gone and Shiro is all alone again with an unconscious best friend and a mostly-severed arm and a probably-dead crew.

At least until Matt wakes up a few minutes later with a groan, “Who… Shiro?”

“Matt!” Shiro exclaims, squeezing his friend’s hand and leaning forward to look at his face.

“Oh my god,” Matt’s face is suddenly ghostly pale and his eyes are wide, “Oh my god, Shiro. Your arm.”

Shiro responds with a slightly-unstable laugh, which just makes Matt more frantic.

“Shiro, your arm!” Matt repeats, trying to clamber into a sitting position.

“Matt, please lay back down,” Shiro says calmly, pressing on Matt’s shoulder with his one functional arm, “Your leg is trapped and you have a concussion. Please stay where you’re at. Your dad is sending help.”

“Judging by that forehead wound, I’m not the only one with a concussion,” says Matt groggily as he lays back down.

“I’m fine,” says Shiro calmly, taking Matt’s hand again and leaning back against the wall. He’s starting to shake. “You’re gonna be fine, too. Just hang in there. Please hold still because I’d like one of us to get out of this with all four limbs intact.”

“I’m really tired…” mumbles Matt, eyes fluttering closed, “What if I just take a nap until the medics come?”

“Hey,” Shiro says, tugging gently at Matt’s hand, “Stay with me, buddy. You’ve got a concussion. No naps.”

Matt groans and peels his eyes back open

“It’ll be okay,” says Shiro softly, rubbing Matt’s hand with a thumb, “Just stay with me. Stay with me…” And then Shiro’s voice is fading. The rhythmic movement of his thumb slows to a stop.

“Whoa, hey!” a surge of adrenaline hits Matt, “Shiro! Shiro, this is a two-way street, you need to stay awake, too!” He frantically jiggles Shiro’s hand.

Shiro mumbles faintly. He’s shivering.

“Shiro!” Matt switches to desperately slapping at his friend’s hand, “C’mon, buddy.”

The only response is shallow breathing and a flutter of Shiro’s eyes.

Matt pauses to squeeze his friend’s hand. It’s cool to the touch. “Shiro!” Matt’s voice cracks, “Oh god, you’re in shock, aren’t you? Goddamnit, why did you not perform first aid on _yourself_ …” He glances at Shiro’s arm and realizes that’s probably a stupid question.

Thankfully the medics arrive shortly after.

\---------------

The first thing Shiro notices when he wakes up is that his entire body aches. He’s never been run over by a steamroller, but he’s pretty sure it would feel something like this. He has an excruciating headache and it hurts to breathe. It feels a little like a dentist is drilling into his right wrist, even though a quick glance reveals that his right arm now ends just below the elbow. He grimaces.

The second thing he notices is Matt Holt’s head resting on his left hand. His friend seems to be in better shape than he is, but not by a lot. His entire left leg is in a cast, which he has propped up on a chair in front of him. There’s also a prominent bald spot and a set of stitches on the back of his otherwise fluffy head of hair.

And he’s sitting at Shiro’s bedside, sound asleep on what is now his only hand.

Shiro wiggles his fingers. Matt shoots upright, “Shiro!?”

“Hey buddy,” says Shiro with a tired smile, then adds, “Where are we?”

“Oh uh… we’re at the Military Hospital in Bethesda,” Matt explains, “D’you uh… d’you remember what happened?”

“I remember we crashed,” says Shiro. Suddenly his heart sinks, “Are the other crew members… did they…”

Matt shakes his head slowly. He looks like he’s trying not to cry. Shiro grabs one of his friend’s hands and holds it tight.

After a moment of silence, Matt speaks up shakily, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” says Shiro with a wavering laugh.

Matt matches his laugh, then grows solemn, “I was _so scared_ , Shiro.”

“I know,” says Shiro gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of Matt’s hand.

“No, I mean…” Matt’s voice breaks, “For you. I don’t think… I don’t think I could deal with being the only one who got out of that alive.”

Shiro squeezes his hand, “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Matt pulls Shiro’s hand up to his face and presses his forehead against it, tears trickling down his cheeks.

They stay that way for several minutes before Shiro breaks the silence with, “Hey, uh… out of morbid curiosity, did anyone get a photo of my arm?”

Matt suddenly dissolves into a fit of giggles. The nervous, out-of-control kind that bubbles up unexpectedly at the worst times. The kind that’s right on the edge of becoming crying. Finally, he manages to suppress his laughter enough to pull something up on his phone. “Okay, prepare yourself.”

Shiro nods, trying to hold down the nervous laughter forming in his own chest.

Matt turns his phone around.

Shiro immediately gags violently and covers his mouth.

Matt turns off his phone and gives his friend a worried grin.

And then they both dissolve into uncontrollable laughter. Shiro’s bruised ribs and stiff muscles burn with the exertion, but he can’t stop.

Eventually, the laughter subsides into panting and dizziness. Matt rests his forehead on Shiro’s bed and Shiro leans back against his pillows. Finally, Shiro speaks breathlessly, “I think I need a snack. My mouth tastes like stomach acid.”

Matt nods and turns to hail down a nurse, “Hey, uh… you’re a nurse, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, “You need something?”

Matt points at Shiro, “My friend could use a snack. Actually, uh… we both could use a snack.”

“Sure,” the nurse replies, “Jello and graham crackers work?”

“Yes, thank you,” Shiro nods.

“Can I swap out the Jello for a juice cup?” asks Matt.

“Sure thing,” the nurse says, “Be right back.”

\---------------

It takes the nurse almost 45 minutes to return with their snacks. In the meantime, the doctor arrives to talk to Shiro about his condition (and, thankfully, get him a cup of water). She seems really relieved to see Shiro fully conscious.

Finally, though, their snacks arrive. Shiro rips his graham crackers open with his teeth and starts to nibble on one as Matt downs his entire juice cup in one gulp.

“God, I feel like I haven’t eaten real food in days,” Shiro muses.

“Probably because you haven’t,” says Matt, opening his own graham crackers, “Like the doctor said, it’s been three days since the crash. You had surgery and two blood transfusions, and then you just sort of floated in the land of the semi-conscious for a while.”

“Three days of IV food,” Shiro says contemplatively, finishing the last of his graham crackers, “No wonder I feel like I’m starving.”

They sit together in relative silence as Matt finishes his graham crackers and Shiro rips the foil off his Jello using his teeth.

He sits there for a moment with his Jello cup in hand, staring blankly down at the plastic spoon on his tray. Tears form in the corners of his eyes. He sets down the Jello cup and reaches for the spoon, and before he knows it he’s crying. Full-out weeping. Over Jello. And Matt is reaching out and touching his shoulder, saying something. But he can’t hear the words because he’s busy crying over a goddamn  _Jello cup_.

A grown man. Sitting in a hospital bed. Sobbing with a plastic spoon in his hand.

Then Matt is crying, too. His face is buried in Shiro’s hospital sheets as he reaches out as far as he possibly can to rub his friend’s back. There they are. Two grown men crying over Jello together. Shiro has never felt more loved in his entire life.

Eventually their sobs dissipate into tired laughter.

“You could just drink it?” Matt suggests between giggles.

Shiro shrugs his left shoulder and sets to work slurping his Jello out of the cup, trying not to think too hard about his dignity. After he finishes, he slams the empty cup down victoriously.

“You did it!” Matt declares, “You defeated the Jello cup!”

“I did it,” murmurs Shiro breathlessly, leaning back against his pillows.

Matt reaches out and grabs his hand, “You did it.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna come say hi, I'm [Agapostemon](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!
> 
> Also: Please remember that I write purely for fun and catharsis. My fics are unbeta’d and minimally proofread. They’re not perfect, and that’s okay. If you notice something I could fix or improve, please keep those thoughts to yourself. If I genuinely want critique, I’ll ask a close friend in private. **Surprise critiques are very stressful and discouraging.** Thanks for understanding!


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